


in a story where proof that i lived is forbidden

by nachtelang



Category: VALORANT (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Gen, a deep dive into omen's backstory, and his relationship with viper post first light, i said my next fanfic would be fluff and then it ends up being this, idk why all i can write for this fandom is angst LOL, someone please just convince them to talk to each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27668378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nachtelang/pseuds/nachtelang
Summary: The flashing images of his life, now scattered. An evening glow through the pale glass windows of his lab. A woman, who looked so pained, screaming for him. In this story where proof that he had once lived was forbidden.And then he was but an omen.
Relationships: Omen & Viper (VALORANT)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	in a story where proof that i lived is forbidden

**Author's Note:**

> my author notes for this one are long so i'll put em at the very end LOL.... but the tl;dr is that i personally think the kagerou project song "additional memory" is perfect for omen.

If this was all just a misunderstanding, then he didn’t want to know.

The agony, and the crying, and the screaming. The endless, endless screaming. Every time he opened his mouth he felt like his jaw was being pulled apart, soundless screams echoing into the emptiness. What had happened? Where was everyone?

Where was _he?_

Distorted, he could see the world, so distant, shimmering even—the world that had started it all. His life, coming into vision yet fading before his eyes, and the flashing images of his future. The labs he had spent so much time in, toiling and rotting away, time ticking as he experimented with that viper he once called a lab partner. And then everything suddenly warped, his memories distorting once more. He felt so delusional. The screams he could have sworn were tearing his lungs apart made no noise whatsoever.

It was over, wasn’t it? He had died. Yet, acting out of self-preservation, he refused to admit it, watching the tears he cried as they were swallowed up by the sky, as if they had never been there in the first place. He didn’t want to admit that it was all over, all he had worked for. He hadn’t even really gotten to live. How many years of his life had he spent in that lab, equating meaningless calculations that were worth nothing despite his futile efforts?

He stared into the vacant space above. The sky—if it could even be called that—and the way everything around him shifted, becoming disfigured, fading into black. An endless, never-ending nightmare. A void where he could only think of the life he could have had, compared to the lifeless days he could hardly call living.

Disappearing, feeling like he was rotting away, all he could do as he was torn apart once more was think of the words he never got to say. The feelings he never got to express. The life he never got to live. He wished he could just stop screaming.

Once he had formed, he could hardly keep himself together. He found himself alone, breathing heavy, struggling against the strain of keeping himself from falling apart. The lab had been destroyed, torn to shreds with no traces of life anywhere. Slowly, shakily, he reached a hand to his face… and was met with nothing. An inky, black void of nothingness where his face once was. Glowing, lifeless lines of cerulean where facial features should have been. Another scream, and then he was gone. He couldn’t keep himself together.

The flashing images of his life were now scattered. An evening glow through the pale glass windows of his lab. A woman, who looked so pained, screaming for him, begging for him to not go, to not die. In this story where proof that he had once lived was forbidden.

And then he was but an omen.

—

“Hey. We’re leaving.” A voice slicked in poison, sharp enough to slice through his ethereal form. Omen exerted and looked up, arms crossed, grunting in annoyance.

Years ago, he may have recognized the person in front of him as his ally, perhaps even his friend. Now, she was a soulless husk of what she may have once been—a similarity she now shared with Omen. Face to face, the two of them had become strangers.

“So be it.” He responded solemnly, his voice gruff, annoyed, even. Viper stared daggers into him, the bags under her eyes visible, almost painful looking. Beneath her cold, unfeeling, even heartless attitude, Omen could see her exhaustion. Perhaps strain was something the two of them had in common.

He stepped over one corpse, followed by another. The sad fools that had tried to stand in their way, lives lost to monsters they had created. It was undoubted that the two of them together were a deadly team; Omen almost thought it heartless of Brimstone to send them out in the field together.

Considering he knew of their previous relationship, however, Omen couldn’t really put it past him.

 _“Sabine,”_ the way her name rolled off his tongue almost stung to speak, like an injection of painful toxins. She paused, almost hesitantly, and turned to look at him. Omen stood there, gun in hand, unreadable as always. Her name only served to remind them both of the monsters they had become, the monsters that First Light had turned them into.

“What? We have to get going.” She crossed her arms impatiently, exhaling annoyedly. “We don’t know how long we’ll have before more Kingdom corpses come for us. We have to leave.”

The fact that she wouldn’t even acknowledge them as people would have made him shiver, had he still been any semblance of human. To her, they were already dead. They had made a monster out of her, and she had given them what was adequate. If not for her cold-blooded attitude and her senseless bloodlust, Omen may have almost pitied her. The innumerable dead bodies scattered across the floor, however, told him otherwise.

“Right. Nevermind.” He picked up his gun, nearly ripping the empty magazine out before fitting a fresh, new one in its place. “Forget about it.”

The words he could never say to her, refusing to come out. His pretty words of just asking her to forget. He knew neither of them could ever forget such a tragedy, yet he wanted to speak to her. Reach out to her, and tell her he was sorry, sorry for leaving her to be ripped apart by the world, just has he had been ripped apart by the void. He wanted to tell her he still cared about her, that she wasn't a monster to him.

Yet the silence between them simply lingered.

**Author's Note:**

> additional memory suits omen so well, i couldn’t help but use it as reference for the backstory i had in mind for him. since he’s always so cold and callous with his in-game dialogue, i can’t help but think of what he may have been like before first light. the people he may have lost, or wasn’t able to see again, after first light tore his body to shreds and left him a husk of a person, a void. i wonder how much it must have hurt, his body being ripped to shreds and forcefully put back together again after he became a radiant ( taken from his lines like “i feel the strain… block it out, omen.” or “keep it together.” “i must endure.” etc etc )... this was just a drabble, a brief exploration into what i think omen might have gone through during first light plus idk interactions between him and viper post first light to show how they went from amicable friends to strangers.


End file.
